


Teddy Bears and Poetic Feelings

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Late Valentine's Fic, Like, M/M, Oops., and yeah, it's pretty bad how fluffy this is, kissing zayn malik, seriously guise, slapping harry styles, teddy bears and mushiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 10:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(this is a late valentine's fic) (oh-fucking-well)</p><p>Zayn wants to slap Harry.</p><p>Harry is confused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teddy Bears and Poetic Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a little late for Valentine's day. Oops.  
> Anyhow, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> First time writing Zarry, so try not to judge too harshly. :P

Zayn sort of feels like slapping Harry. In the face. Right in front of god and everybody.  
  
 _Honestly._ Zayn put fucking _flowers_ (Harry’s absolute favorite since they were, like, five) and a _cheesy teddy bear_ (the one that Harry pointed out in the store, saying _I’ve always wanted a stereotypical Valentine’s present, Zayn_ ) in the boy’s locker. He knows Harry is oblivious at the best of times, but, for god’s sake! This is a new low for him.  
  
“Oh. Uh, thanks, man.” Is all he says when they meet up at Zayn’s place later that evening (Zayn was sort of scared about the confrontation, and - as a last minute thing - wrote a note on the flower card with too many smiley faces and a _meet me at mine, yeah?_ ). “You know. For, like, the bear and stuff.”  
  
Zayn’s face falls an impossible amount. “Right. Um. D’you get the card? That was with the bear?” (so what, Zayn put two cards in with his Valentine. It was bloody important, okay?)  
  
“Yeah, no. I got that. Very poetic and stuff.”  
  
Zayn really feels like slapping Harry.  
  
So he does. Right there on his front porch. (Zayn can see, in the next yard over, Mrs. Henderson flinch).  
  
It takes Harry - the poor soul - longer than it should to register what’s happened, and, when he does, all he manages to croak out is, “Wait… wh-what was that… urgh… um…” His eyebrows are scrunched and his eyes are wide and Zayn is honestly clueless as to how Harry has made it this far in life (by _this far_ he means _to age sixteen_ because, statistically speaking, shouldn’t Harry have gotten hit by a bus or accidentally walked into a river by now?).  
  
Zayn kisses him then, and, surprisingly, Harry kisses back. First slowly, as if he’s trying to put the pieces together (knowing Harry, he’s smashing them into one another, thinking they fit but really don’t) (which probably explains how they’re both feeling at the moment), then a little too eagerly (a little too Harry-like, all fast-paced but so, so amazing).  
  
And, _well fuck_ , now Zayn’s confused, too.  
  
When they pull away, Harry looks completely astonished, as is Zayn, all dumbfounded and open-mouthed, gaping like fish. Really, really stupid fish. “What, um. What the hell was that, exactly?”  
  
Zayn blinks once. Twice. Before answering, “I have no fucking idea. It was, you know… I, uh. I kissed you.”  
  
“I’m aware.”  
  
“And, well, I sort of want to do it again. Uh, if you don’t mind, that is…”  
  
Harry’s lips are on his within seconds.  
  
Zayn feels a little less like slapping Harry, and a lot more like kissing him senseless (and then some).  
  



End file.
